


Inflection Points

by jacksparrow589



Series: In Which Things Change [1]
Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, First Kisses, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Idiots in Love, S3 alternate takes, Shirbert, a truly ridiculous amount of hand holding, lots of flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23048017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksparrow589/pseuds/jacksparrow589
Summary: At least one alternate path for a scene in a given episode to have taken. Not necessarily the paths that should have been taken, but ways things could have gone.Marked as complete now, but with a high chance of coming back for more.3x01: In Which a Post is Made (After a Fashion)3x04: In Which Gilbert Glimpses the Future3x06: In Which Anne is Most Definitely Not Chopping Onions3x08: In Which Gilbert Realizes "Pirate" Does Not In Fact Mean "I Don't Love You"3x02: In Which Anne Checks Her Temper3x09: In Which the First Note is Not Destroyed3x03: In Which Comfort Is Still Given and Taken3x10: In Which the Second Letter is Not Destroyed (But the First One Still Was)3x07: In Which the Porch Scene Ends Rather Differently3x05: In Which These Two Knuckleheads Don't Fight It
Relationships: Cole Mackenzie & Anne Shirley, Diana Barry & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe & Sebastian "Bash" Lacroix, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Marilla Cuthbert & Matthew Cuthbert & Anne Shirley, Ruby Gillis & Anne Shirley
Series: In Which Things Change [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672138
Comments: 438
Kudos: 526





	1. 3x01: In Which a Post is Made (After a Fashion)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, these won't necessarily be in order; they'll just... be. As I write them. I have about half of my planned stories (1 per episode as yet) written, but there may be more alternates depending on how many more #letthemdealwiththeirshit2020 discussions Rozmund and I have. (Hey, you! Yes, you're getting a shout-out!)

"So you're suggesting… I post?"

Anne opened and closed her mouth several times, floundering for an answer as Gilbert looked at her expectantly.

She was saved from having to come up with an answer by Miss Stacy's appearance. Anne hurried back over to her seat and slid in next to Diana, heaving out a sigh and looking back at Ruby, who was gazing adoringly in Gilbert's direction.

Anne had never been so relieved to work on algebra.

* * *

It was lunch time, and the girls were gathered, as usual, in a corner of the room, sharing lunches and chattering over the latest developments. Naturally, the notice board was the dominant topic of conversation.

Not ten minutes into their discussion, Anne had had more than enough. "The notice board is nonsense, anyway; if you're looking to—to be with someone, surely you ought to get to know them! Talk with them! All this gossip and making affairs of the heart public… all that should matter is what two people feel for each other!" Anne realized she'd been speaking in a rather elevated voice. The other girls were staring at her.

"Gilbert's reading in the supply room—I'm going to talk with him now!" Ruby announced before Anne could say anything else.

Anne blinked, Josie and Jane tittered, and Tillie and Diana stared as Ruby flounced into the supply closet. Anne bit her lip. She hadn't intended for this to happen, although she couldn't help being a little proud. Ruby learning to be a little more bold certainly didn't seem like a bad thing.

Not two minutes later, Ruby slumped out and back over to the girls, her eyes full of tears and her cheeks streaked by those that had already fallen.

"Oh, Ruby…" Anne embraced her friend. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen."

Ruby shook her head. "In a way, I think… this is good. I'm not ready to let go of my ideal, but part of that is that whoever he is, he must love me as I do him. Gilbert—" She took a shuddering breath. "—Glibert doesn't, and that hurts, but not as much as I thought it would. So maybe… Maybe there's someone else. Or there will be." Ruby sniffled, and Anne pulled a napkin out of Ruby's lunch basket for Ruby to use to dry her tears.

"I think that's a wonderful way to look at it, Ruby," Anne told her with complete sincerity. "I'm sure that whoever you wind up with, he will be a wonderful, romantic man who adores you for everything you are."

Ruby managed a watery smile. "You think so?"

"We _know_ so, Ruby," Diana told her. "You are a treasure, and if Gilbert Blythe can't see that, then he clearly doesn't have eyes!"

Ruby laughed with the rest of the girls.

"And really, who needs boys, anyway?" Jane added. "I know none of you have brothers, so let me tell you: boys are horrendous to have around most of the time. They're obnoxious, and disgusting. They don't understand grace or dignity. I'd _much_ rather continue to be in the company of girls until the boys mature into men."

Diana raised her milk bottle. "To the men of our futures: may they be mature, handsome, and romantic."

"Hear, hear!" Josie and Tillie chimed.

The rest of the girls raised their bottles, clinking them together. Though Ruby's chin still wobbled just a bit with emotion, she was soldiering on. She was going to be okay. Anne was glad.

* * *

The rest of the day had passed without incident. Ruby had sniffled a few times, but seemed to be in increasingly good spirits. By the meeting of the newspaper, she was giggling along with Josie and Tillie, and Diana chatted companionably with her. By the end of study group, she was too engrossed in Tillie's two-Paul drama to care.

Not that Anne knew that last bit, as she had taken her time pulling on her jacket. She was in the mood for a leisurely walk on this last day of being fifteen.

"Mind if I join you on your walk home?" Gilbert's voice asked, startling her just a bit.

"Oh!" Anne nodded. "Of course. Though I must inform you now that I very much plan on dawdling and enjoying this snow while it lasts."

Gilbert nodded, a knowing smile settling itself over his features. "I think my chores can wait." He grabbed the door for Anne as she pulled on her hat.

"Thanks." Anne grabbed the strap of her bag with the hand not occupied by her basket and book strap and slid past him out into the crisp almost-spring afternoon.

Gilbert quickly pulled Anne into a conversation about the latest bits of history they'd been reviewing for the Queen's entrance exam. From there, the conversation ranged into PEI's natural resources, Anne's article about the Mi'kmaq (Gilbert expressed unrestrained envy that Anne had been allowed and even invited to see the village) and even a comparison of Trinidad (which had Anne wishing she could visit such a marvelous place, but admitting the sun would not be kind to her, burning easily as she did).

Just before Green Gables came into view, Gilbert asked Anne if she had any plans for the next day.

Anne sighed ruefully. "Unfortunately, Diana will be with her family, though I've been promised tea with her and Cole at Aunt Jo's in a few weeks to make up for it. Marilla always makes my favorite supper, too, so that's something. It'll be quiet, but I suppose I can always spend the day getting lost in a book if nothing else."

Gilbert nodded, "Good food and uninterrupted reading time; that sounds like a good day to me, to be honest."

Anne laughed. "Well, when you put it that way, I suppose it is."

They were making their way to the property line of Green Gables. "Well, thank you for the conversation. It was… quite enjoyable," Anne admitted, only just managing not to sound nearly as surprised as she felt at the honesty behind her words.

"Yeah, it's been nice getting to know you like this." There was laughter in Gilbert's smile, but his words were sincere.

Anne could feel a blush starting on her cheeks. "You heard what I said at lunch, then?" she asked, a sharp edge of worry and embarrassment clear in her tone.

The playfulness faded from Gilbert's smile, something else replacing it that Anne couldn't discern, but that had a warmth start to spread through her. "I did. And for the record, I agree with you."

"Oh. Well, if the cluster of classmates around the notice board as we left is any indication, you're the only one, but thank you." Anne smiled, a little rueful. "See you Monday."

Gilbert nodded. "I hope you have a good birthday tomorrow."

Anne's smile was completely unguarded. "Thanks, Gilbert." She turned and made her way up onto the porch and into the house.

As she pulled off her jacket, she reached into the pocket to pull out the ribbon Diana had given her as an early birthday present, her fingers found an unexpected scrap of paper along with it. She pulled it out and unfurled it, immediately recognizing Gilbert's handwriting before she'd understood the words.

_Gilbert Blythe would like to get to know Anne Shirley-Cuthbert better, preferably on regular walks._

Anne smiled beatifically and tucked the scrap of paper back into her pocket, then pulled on her jacket and went back out to chase down Gilbert, her heart welling with giddy excitement at what the future might bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted Ruby to develop a little more this season and confront her feelings for once! Alas, that didn't quite happen so much as she just realized that Moody was cute. Which, y'know, I'm kind of okay with, but the idea was still here for me to play around with.
> 
> And of course, this being a chapter end note, I beg your comments and theories!


	2. 3x04: In Which Gilbert Glimpses the Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least one person posted a "what if Gilbert saw Anne all gussied up" speculation fic back when this episode first aired, and I was just like, "You know what? Why the hell not?!"

"...and so I figured I'd check back here while Doctor Ward is fixing Bash up," Gilbert explained.

Aunt Jo nodded. "We will see to it that Anne is conveyed safely back to Green Gables. Thank you for letting us know. I do hope that this journey is less fraught, and know that I wish I could be in attendance at the service. Anne has often spoken highly of Mary."

Gilbert nodded. "Thank you, Miss Barry."

"Josephine, please, dear boy," Aunt Jo corrected. "I feel as though I know you and your chosen family well enough through dear Anne—with some supplementary information from Cole, naturally—that we certainly ought to be at least on slightly familiar terms."

While he didn't quite smile, a warm expression touched Gilbert's eyes. "Thank you, Josephine. I'm sorry to miss Anne, but I need to be on m—"

The front door flew open. "Oh, Cole, Aunt Jo, I've had the most momentous after... noon. Ah," Anne cleared her throat. "Gilbert. Hello."

While Cole had gone into great detail describing with immense artistic flair and precision how he and Aunt Jo had transformed Anne's appearance, Gilbert found that the description still paled in comparison to the vision before him. Green had always been Anne's color, but this particular light, warm shade was highlighting her hair and eyes and skin and freckles all in the most alluring way. And the way her hair had been set, not to mention the eyelet pattern of the blouse she wore... Everything about her was just—

"Wow." Gilbert could not quite help the small utterance, but he did manage to keep it under his breath. Next to him, Cole let out a soft, amused snort, and if Miss Barry or Rollings had noticed Gilbert's momentary lapse in propriety, they chose not to comment. "Ah, hello. I was just leaving. Cole will escort you home. Bash... he was injured. He's fine, just..."

"We can fill her in on the details, Gilbert; you go and see to Bash," Cole assured him, only barely keeping a grin in check as he clapped Gilbert on the shoulder.

Gilbert nodded. "Yeah... Thanks, Cole." He turned and shook hands with the other young man, then pulled on his cap and tipped it to Aunt Jo, who smiled primly, and Rollings, who nodded back. He turned and strode past Anne before stopping and looking back. "Anne... You look lovely."

Anne's cheeks went an incredibly becoming rosy pink as she nodded. "Thanks, I... Give Bash my best."

Gilbert nodded. "I will. See you."

"Bye." Anne fluttered her fingers shyly as Rollings strode past her to close the door behind Gilbert. Once the door was shut, she turned to Cole, who had let an utterly devious grin light up his features. "Gilbert doesn't have a crush on you, hmm? Anne, he was looking at you like he was a man dying of thirst and you were the freshest, sweetest stream."

"He was rather transfixed," Aunt Jo agreed.

"As a result of your handiwork; not the canvas!" protested Anne, the pink of her cheeks only deepening.

"Deny it all you like, Anne; you're only prolonging young Gilbert's heartache," Aunt Jo chastised, a wicked glint in her eyes.

Cole, not to be outdone, added, "And your own, I might add."

Anne sputtered for a moment. "My own hearta—Cole Mackenzie, I am not—! I am going to go get changed!" Anne swept off up the stairs, bemoaning the corset the entire way and how it was now affecting her ability to get a full breath in.

"Yeah, Gilbert definitely noticed the corset, alright," Cole snickered just loud enough for Aunt Jo to hear. She rapped him gently across his knuckles with her walking stick, but the gesture was far and away more affectionate than punitive. "I will not have you making such crude remarks to Anne." _However much truth might be behind them_ hung unspoken between them. With a small tut, Aunt Jo held out her arm. "We ought to go make sure she has any help she needs untangling herself."

* * *

Gilbert had mercifully not mentioned the exact nature (or rather, the exact method) of Anne's escapade to Marilla, let alone to Bash, it seemed. She supposed that with the funeral, there were probably more pressing things to speak of.

She had just returned Dellie to Bash's arms when she ran into Gilbert. Her cheeks pinked just a little bit, but she put a hand on his shoulder as a brief gesture of comfort. She was mildly surprised when he covered her hand with his, running his thumb up and down the back of her hand once before squeezing her hand and releasing it. "Thank you for being here, Anne."

Anne blinked as her hand fell from Gilbert's shoulder. "Of course! I wouldn't dream of not coming. And I wish that I could have come home on the train with you. I know that the afternoon wasn't easy for Bash, and I want to be here for him. For Dellie. For all of you." _And without repeating my past mistakes._ She took a breath. "I'd... better go find Marilla and help her prepare supper."

One corner of Gilbert's mouth turned up just a bit. "Another bit of thanks we owe you."

Anne shrugged. "It's what fam—community does."

"Well, still…" Now Gilbert shrugged, his thoughts turning inward, but his smile grew just a little bit. "Someday, I'll figure something out."

Anne tried unsuccessfully to repress her own smile. "I'm sure you will." She turned and walked away.

Gilbert watched her go.

He'd seen yesterday what the world at large would see in Anne all too soon. But just now, he was seeing what he had all along: the person Anne always had been and always would be. She was kind and fiercely loyal, ready and willing to do what needed to be done for the sake of those she cared about. She was the sort of person he wanted in his life, and more and more, he was mulling over how exactly he could make that happen.

He didn't yet know that the next day would bring a note from Winifred Rose asking to confirm their plans for the fair. He didn't yet know he'd sit at his kitchen table for an hour contemplating it, and snapping at Bash when he questioned what was taking Gilbert so long to make the decision. He didn't yet know that Bash would then sit down and have a long heart-to-heart with him about attraction and love and taking chances and seeing what's been in front of you the whole time and most of all that communication is how these things get sorted out.

And he certainly didn't know that by tomorrow evening, he'd be on his way to Green Gables to do just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's where I beg for comments because I crave interaction with folks. Y'all feed me with your words.


	3. 3x06: In Which Anne is Most Definitely Not Chopping Onions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The alternate title for this chapter is "In Which Nothing Much Changes" because while the events of the chapter are different from the episode, the change unfortunately doesn't affect anything that happens later on on the episode, except MAYBE giving Gilbert a little more pause about this whole Winnie thing.

Anne sniffled and pushed her braids (horrendously mussed from baking) behind her ears as Gilbert allowed himself into Green Gables.

_Oh God, why was Gilbert Blythe allowing himself into Green Gables?_

"Is Matthew here? I was hoping to borrow some cufflinks."

 _Cufflinks?_ Anne's mortification mercifully abandoned her as curiosity took over.

"Have you... Are you alright? You look like you've been crying." Gilbert looked concerned.

Anne's embarrassment flooded back in. "Oh! I... caught a cold. And I was just... making a cake for the cake competition. Mary's cake. It's turned out well. And I just wish..." Anne sighed. "I wish she was here to see it." A pair of tears slid down her cheeks, and Anne raised her apron to wipe them away. "Sorry." She was such a disaster today! Why did Gilbert have to show up now?

Thankfully, his concern had morphed into sympathy. "I'm sure it'll be wonderful, Anne," he assured her. "Though it does smell a little odd in here... Has Miss Cuthbert's baking suffered a setback?"

Anne shook her head. "I don't know. I can't really smell much right now. But Marilla's made those plum puffs so often. I can't imagine she would have made a misstep." She crossed her arms loosely. "Anyway, you said you wanted to know if—if Matthew has cufflinks?"

Gilbert nodded. "Yes, is he—" He was interrupted as Matthew appeared at the door with the largest radish any of them had ever seen. "Matthew, that radish is spectacular!" Gilbert exclaimed.

"Oh... Thank you," Matthew said quietly, but his pride was unmistakable.

Before she could stop herself, Anne blurted, "Gilbert needs cufflinks!" and fled. She raced up the stairs and to her room, quickly rinsing her face and trying to set her braids to rights.

As she was just finishing up her braiding, she felt a familiar tickle in her nose. _Oh no, not now,_ she thought. _Not while Gilbert is still over..._

Of course, her life being what it was at the moment, the loudest, most forceful sneeze of the day exploded from Anne. She grabbed her handkerchief and blew her nose, hoping the moment would pass without comment.

Alas, this too was not meant to be. "I think you scared Matthew."

Anne spun, eyes wide. Gilbert leaned against her door frame, slowly taking in her room in all its Anne-ness. She tried to think of something—anything—to say in reply, but no words were coming to her. Her heart had started pounding and it felt like she was wearing Aunt Jo's corset again.

"...I hope you're feeling better tomorrow," Gilbert offered, looking equal part curious and like he was trying to hold in laughter.

"Thank you." Anne was wringing her handkerchief rather violently. "I... suppose I'll see you at the fair, then?"

Gilbert nodded. "I certainly wouldn't miss seeing how that cake of yours turns out."

 _And the barn dance?_ Anne stopped the words before they could come out. She didn't want to remind him. Not of how he'd seemed to greatly enjoy dancing with her. Certainly not how she'd felt dancing with him. And definitely not about that disastrously awkward parting afterward. "Um, I need to—Diana and I have plans. Say hi to Bash and Dellie for me. Excuse me. Bye." Anne pushed past Gilbert and went down the stairs as quickly and quietly as she could. She had to get out of the house before whatever he was feeling poured out in some horrifyingly embarrassing way. She honestly didn't even know what she'd say; she was so overwhelmed.

Feeling a little calmer just for being outside, Anne looked back just in time to catch Gilbert's eye as he left Green Gables. He waved, and she returned the gesture hesitatingly before whirling back around and heading for Diana's. Surely, Diana would help her sort her feelings out out. That was what bosom friends were for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending to this one is a bit oof because Anne doesn't know about Winnie yet. (Though if you want to head-canon Anne was cute enough to change Gilbert's mind, I am all for it.) Writing this was mostly about Gilbert asking if Anne's been chopping onions because seriously, Gil? WTF, honestly…  
> I did have to keep the "Gilbert needs cufflinks!" followed by Anne fleeing, though. Teenage me would have done exactly the same. (Also, the spectacularity of the radish, because Matthew Cuthbert deserves to have that radish lauded!)


	4. 3x08: In Which Gilbert Realizes "Pirate" Does Not In Fact Mean "I Don't Love You"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amusingly, Chreechree called out something in a comment on the 3x04 chapter almost exactly as I had written it here. If you have questions about the stock market or your love life, I'd direct your inquiries there.  
> Also definitely inspired at least a bit by conversations with Rozmund regarding digging a certain male teenage protagonist out of holes of his own (well, the writers'...) making.  
> Now, onto this extremely cliché (and thus hopefully satisfying) chapter!

"She said no... basically."

Bash blinked. "Basically?"

Gilbert shook his head. "It came out all jumbled. She even said something about pirates. It seemed like she was pretty shocked. Like she had no idea." _Like she'd never considered me that way._

Bash's eyebrows knit in confusion, and then, he realized: "Did you actually _tell_ Anne what you feel for her?" Though Gilbert shot him a look, Bash didn't back down. "Stare daggers at me all you want. You've been perfectly able to talk about your feelings for Winnie with me, so I know you can do it. That you don't when it comes to Anne... well, I think that says something about the magnitude of your feelings. So, again I ask: did you tell Anne you love her in so many words?" When Gilbert's expression went from defiant to looking like Dellie when you took away her favorite blanket, he had his answer. "As your brother, I would advise you to go actually tell Anne very clearly how you feel and see what she says before you go proposing to someone else. If you'd like, I can scare up some rum and a laundry tub."

Gilbert had to let out a sharp bark of laughter at that. "I doubt Miss Cuthbert would let me near Anne if I showed up drunk, never mind the laundry tub."

"And if she somehow did, you'd probably get a slate to the head again," Bash teased.

"I'm not convinced I won't today," Gilbert murmured.

Bash scoffed quietly. "If you think she hasn't been looking at you the way you've been looking at her, you need to go to an occulist. Take it from someone who has been watching this from the outside: she was devastated to see you with Winnie well before that cake fiasco at the fair. If she's going to be whacking you with a slate again, it'll be because you didn't properly confess and broke her heart twice."

 _Worse than that,_ Gilbert thought. _I pretty openly asked her if I should marry someone else._ _That slate would be the least I'd deserve._

He had to make this right. He went to his room and grabbed Anne's pen, then set off for Green Gables.

* * *

Marilla opened the door. "Gilbert, what a surprise! Is everything alright?"

Gilbert nodded. "Yes, I just, um, forgot to return Anne's pen the other day. Deprived her of it for exams. I… should apologize. Is Anne here?"

Marilla shook her head. "No, she left early this morning. But I can't imagine she'll be gone terribly much longer; you're welcome to wait."

The thought was tempting, but Gilbert knew he was absolutely going to have to answer questions he didn't want to if he stuck around. "No, thank you. I'll just leave her a note thanking her and apologizing for depriving her of such a precious item."

"As well you should," Marilla joked, mock-sternly. "Would you like a scone while you're here? I made them as a treat for Anne for finishing her exams, and I suppose you should be offered the same."

"I certainly won't turn that down," Gilbert replied as he grabbed the most recent shopping list and tore the bottom of the scrap off.

_Dear Anne,_

_I'd like to speak with you regarding what we discussed last night. I can't begin to tell you how utterly idiotic I feel for how I handled things, and I'd like to try to make it right._

_I know that I am yet again asking something of you, but when you have the time, please come over, and my undivided attention will be yours._

_With anxious hope,_

_Gilbert_

_P.S. My sincerest apologies for depriving you of your pen for the entrance exam. I hope you can forgive me for at least that much._

Gilbert had dithered a bit over how to sign the note, figuring it best to be honest but struggling to label the feelings succinctly. He only hoped it would be enough.

* * *

Anne had had quite a day. Aunt Jo's advice had been sound, of course, if sobering, because if Gilbert had taken her words to heart, there was no getting him back.

No, not even back—she'd never _had_ him to begin with.

Diana had tried to assure her otherwise after Anne's frenzied outburst and hurried explanation. Gilbert's eyes had only ever been for Anne, she'd insisted. There must have been some mistake, or some way to get to him before anything happened. Anne was afraid that Gilbert had gone back to Charlottetown already, but Diana pointed out that he surely would need some time to collect himself before heading off, if that was indeed what he was going to do.

"After all, I doubt that he wasn't affected if he thought you were telling him to marry someone else. We don't know the Roses, but I do know how my parents want _me_ to marry. Feelings… don't always come into it as much as I want them to. You've seen my parents: they like each other plenty, but… I don't know that they always love each other, and to hear Aunt Jo tell it, they certainly didn't at first. A marriage can survive on fondness and affection, but not if one of them loves someone else. I don't know everything, but I do know that he doesn't react to Winifred like he does even the mere mention of you." Diana had sighed. "All this to say… I don't think all is lost. But you need to act quickly. Go and talk to him."

Anne had agreed at the time, but in the absence of her friend's fierceness, the worry was starting to seep back in, and with it, the hopelessness.

When Marilla had called her to set the table for supper, Anne had slouched down the stairs with no trace of her usual effervescence. Marilla had looked concerned, and her request that Anne set the table was much softer than it might usually be when Anne dawdled.

Thankfully, Anne had set down the glasses by the time she saw her pen and the note from it.

"Marilla? Was Gilbert here earlier?"

"Yes. He said he wanted to apologize for not having returned your pen before the exam. He even insisted on writing you a note since you weren't here. Very polite of him."

"Hmm…" Anne made a thoughtful noise as she unfolded the note, fumbling it immediately upon reading the first sentence. Her heart was pounding in her chest and ears, and she forgot to breathe until she finished the note, allowing herself a short, breathless chuckle at his postscript. She popped back out into the kitchen. "May I… go see Gilbert after dinner? I should really thank him. It's not as though he meant to take my pen."

Marilla gave her a curious look, but nodded. "Yes, you may."

"Th-thank you." Anne went back to setting the table, needing to rearrange a few things she misplaced out of lack of focus on the present.

If Matthew and Marilla noticed that she was subdued over dinner, they said nothing. Anne ate like a bird, and while Marilla wanted to fret, she seemed to sense that she shouldn't. Instead, she told Anne she didn't need to help with the dishes, not quite shooing her out the door, but again seeming to know that this was more urgent than Anne let on.

Her heart in her throat, Anne opened the door and strode out of Green Gables, ready to face her feelings.

* * *

Bash opened the door. "Anne! How lovely to see you!" He waved one of Dellie's hands at Anne.

"Hello, Bash." Anne bit her lip nervously, unusually subdued. "Is… Gilbert here? He… left a note at Green Gables, asking me to meet him here."

Bash nodded with a smile. "Yes, he said something to that effect. Hey Blythe!" he called sharply over his shoulder. "A certain red-haired beauty to see you!"

Anne let out an embarrassed laugh as Gilbert appeared, looking equal parts worried and hopeful, just as he'd signed his note. Anne tilted her head out the door and turned to walk back off the step.

Gilbert followed.

They walked in near silence, Anne with her hands clasped in front of her, and Gilbert with his in his pockets. Though the silence wasn't entirely comfortable, they were walking close enough for their shoulders to brush occasionally.

Finally, they were out far enough in the orchard that they wouldn't be overheard, and Gilbert stopped. "I've had a lot of time to think today. About last night..." He swiveled to face Anne. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said things the way I did—"

Anne shook her head. "I didn't know what to say or what to think. And the moonshine didn't help, but I'd been trying so hard to avoid my feelings—"

Gilbert held up a hand. "Please. I just want... What I wanted was to tell you how I feel, and to finally learn whether you felt the same way. Instead, I put a choice I was trying to make on you, and from your response, I gave you every reason to think I was telling you that... That love isn't enough." Gilbert sighed. "I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am. Because what I wanted—really and truly—was to tell you that I love you, and that if... " Gilbert trailed off. Anne waited, eyes wide and perhaps starting to well with tears a bit. She allowed herself to breathe when Gilbert swallowed and continued, "No, not just if. _Regardless_ of whether or not you love me, I'm not going to marry someone I don't love for the sake of an opportunity. I need you to know that so that you understand that all I am asking is whether or not you feel the same way. Nothing else matters."

"You can't mean that," Anne told him, her voice quivering. "You can't mean that the Sorbonne truly doesn't matter. It matters. Your dreams matter. What people think matters! _This_ is what _I_ was trying to say last night. It's not that I don't love you; it's that those feelings don't exist in a bubble, and I've come to realize that. So, I do love you, but..." Anne trailed off, wrapping her arms around herself.

"But what?" Gilbert asked softly. "I'm not going to pressure you into something you don't want; you have to know that. But by the same token, I need you to know that I made this decision, and that I know what truly matters most to me and what doesn't. When I thought you were saying that you didn't love me, it felt like—like I would always feel incomplete, no matter what I did or where I went. I couldn't breathe, I could hardly speak... I nearly got lost on the way home. When I think about not going to the Sorbonne, or not just... having it all handed to me, the disappointment pales in comparison." Gilbert took her hands. "I thought you were telling me you didn't feel the same way, when instead you were just telling me to choose the certain thing I'd been offered. I don't deserve the selflessness you showed. But I hope to someday. If you'll let me try."

Tears rolled freely down Anne's cheeks. "I… You…" She took a few deep, gasping breaths. "So you… what you really wanted last night… you wanted _me_ to tell _you…_ that I love you?"

Gilbert nodded. "More than anything," he breathed, hoping Anne could see the sincerity in his eyes through her tears. 

Still, he was stunned when Anne pulled her hands from his, grabbed Gilbert's vest, and buried her head in his shoulder, sobbing. As his arms came around her, one around Anne's shoulders and the other cradling the back of her head, he heard her gasp out, "I… Gilbert, I love you." Gilbert tightened his arms around her momentarily. 

"I love you, too, Anne," he whispered into her hair. "I'm sorry I didn't say it before, but I'm really, _really_ glad I got to now." 

"Me, too," Anne told him, her tears slowly abating. "And I promise, these are happy tears now." She pulled back just enough to wipe her eyes on her sleeve. "Because now, I kno—" Anne was cut off by Gilbert's mouth on hers. Her response was nearly immediate, one hand still gripping Gilbert's vest while the other came up to caress his cheek. When they both realized what they were doing, there was a brief moment of hesitation, and then Anne stood on her toes to once again press her lips firmly to Gilbert's. 

A long moment later, Anne pulled away, drawing in a deep breath and slowly sighing it out. She couldn't help a giddy smile, still a little surprised to see the same on Gilbert's face. 

Even though she still had so many questions and memories and regrets, the certainty she felt here and now told her that they'd be able to sort it out. It would take work, but they were no strangers to that, and they had time. For now, all Anne wanted to do was lean back in a third time.

So, that was precisely what she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read Gail Carson Levine's "Ella Enchanted", the tension in the latter half of this chapter was heavily inspired by the climax of that book, particularly Ella's internal debate nearly tearing her apart. I know that it's a trope in plenty of stories, but that's the first book I read where that heartbreak was palpable, and I tried to recreate that feeling a bit here.  
> Also, yes, that last little bit was me copping out on dealing with Winnie. I seem to have resolved to just… not deal with her in any of these. Dunno what to tell you.  
> As always, I want to hear your thoughts!


	5. 3x02: In Which Anne Checks Her Temper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She also gets invited to tea twice. Just saying.

"If it's any consolation, I don't mind being your escort."

Anne took a breath, ready to launch into a rant, then sighed. "Well, _I_ —I just… feel like she's treating me as more of a child than I am." _And I'm scared that she's right. I'm scared that I'm going to learn something I don't want to know, like Matthew said, and then I'll just… have to live with that._

Gilbert had been getting ready to pull out a book, but he stopped. "I don't think we ever really stop being our parents' children. Believe me, no matter how many times I had to prove myself capable of handling things when my dad got worse, there was always something about the way that he treated me that stayed the same." He chuckled. "And we've both seen how Mrs. Lynde treats her children."

Anne grimaced. "Don't even remind me." She looked out the window. "Still… I just wonder if… if this is how my parents would have treated me. The ones I was born to, I mean. Though, I suppose I wouldn't be embarking on a quest to find out more about them."

"You're going to Nova Scotia, then?" Gilbert asked.

Anne nodded. "The orphanage should have records on them." She thought for a moment. "This will be the first time I've been back with more than two years having passed." She didn't seem to notice she was pulling in on herself, shrinking away from the memories. "I want to say that I hope things have changed… but I know they won't have." 

Gilbert admittedly hadn't given much contemplation to Anne's time at the orphanage. In the abstract, he knew it couldn't have been pleasant, of course, but to see the effect the mere memory of the place was having on the normally outspoken, vivacious, joyful Anne was startling. What was he supposed to say? Anne knew how much better she had it now. Telling her to just think about that wouldn't cut it.

"I'm glad Cole's accompanying you," he said finally.

Anne looked surprised that this was how he was responding, and she seemed to relax just a little bit as Gilbert continued, "He's a—a good friend, and when you're facing something like this, that's exactly what you need."

He couldn't be entirely sure, but tears seemed to be starting in the corners of Anne's eyes as she nodded. "I really appreciate that he's given up his Saturday. Mary and Bash assured me you would, but… asking you didn't seem right when you already have obligations."

"Had you asked, I would have said yes," Gilbert told her honestly, "but I understand why you didn't." He wanted to say that he wasn't sure he was the right person for the task, anyway. Whatever Cole was to Anne, there was a clear closeness there. The few times Gilbert had observed it, it seemed more familial than romantic, but he couldn't be entirely sure that wasn't just his own hopes.

He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he almost missed Anne's quiet "Thank you."

"Let me know how it goes, too," Gilbert requested politely after a moment's thought.

Anne looked confused. "As practice for another presentation?"

Gilbert shook his head. "No. I mean, do one if you want; I'm just curious to know what you'll find. And… if it's not what you'd hoped in some way—not that I hope that it isn't; really, I hope your parents were just like you—" he grinned when the notion made Anne smile just a bit "—I just figured… that it would be nice to have someone to talk about it with."

Anne's expression had shifted back to uncomfortable, but still less than it had been before. She nodded. "Thank you. Again," she told him. "I hope… I hope I have good news."

* * *

The news didn't seem good.

Anne was certainly trying to put on a brave face, but her eyes were red from crying, and she just didn't look like she was at peace. 

"How'd the search go?" 

"There… wasn't anything." Anne took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. She tipped her head back to look up at the ceiling of the car and blinked. In a low, hoarse voice, she continued, "Rats got into the files. Somehow, they didn't get the stories I stashed in the attic with them. So, I'm left with everything I did to escape orphanage life. And nothing that tells me anything about the one thing dreams can't compare to." She closed her eyes, but tears leaked out. "I thought I'd cried until I couldn't anymore. I guess I was wrong." 

"I'm sorry, Anne." Gilbert had no idea what else to say. Anne had already pulled a handkerchief from her bag and was holding it to her eyes, face still tilted skyward. 

Gilbert shifted so that the top of his shoulder was just touching the bottom of her cheek. Anne didn't startle, but did hesitate for half a second before tilting her head so that it just rested against Gilbert's shoulder. Her arm overlapped his just so that her pinkie could link with his if either were to bend theirs just a bit, but neither of them did. 

After a while, Gilbert had relaxed, his head cradled on his hand as he leaned away from Anne and to the window in case he fell asleep. Thankfully, Anne taking a breath alerted him before her question startled him."...Can I come with you again the next weekend you come to Charlottetown? I'm going to try the parish records. They might have death records, or at least my baptism records."

Gilbert cleared his throat. "O-of course! Do you want me to take you to Miss Barry's, or… Anne, I'd be happy to come with. Two pairs of eyes are better than one." 

Anne shook her head, seeming to forget it was still nestled against Gilbert's shoulder. "No. It's not that I don't appreciate the offer; truly, I do. But I have to do this myself."

"I understand. I just hope that… when you do find something, you'll share it?" Gilbert sat back up, trying to keep his shoulder where it was. 

"Of course." Anne said it with such certainty that it surprised Gilbert. It was as though it wouldn't have occurred to her not to share. "How was your day?" 

Gilbert regaled Anne with the tale of finding Miss Rose, Dr. Ward's clerk, having quite the chat with the office skeleton as she dusted it. He'd had to assure Miss Rose that he wasn't laughing at her, but that he was reminded of a friend of his who was probably having a difficult day, and who would no doubt enjoy hearing the tale. Miss Rose had asked about this friend of his, and had expressed to Gilbert that she'd like to meet this Anne over tea, as she felt the two of them would get along quite well. 

Anne, for her part, agreed. "The next time I'm in town to visit Cole and Aunt Jo, I'll stop in."

She was smiling now, and Gilbert's own expression grew tender. He was grateful Anne didn't see it before he schooled it into something a little more friendly. He hadn't told Anne that Miss Rose had also pointed out that he spoke of Anne with great affection. _"Not just that of a friend, either,"_ she'd said before adding _"believe me, I'd know,"_ and winking conspiratorially at him. 

_"Truly, she sounds like a wonderful and fascinating young lady, Gilbert. You don't meet one like her every day," Miss Rose told him as they cleaned up for the day._

_"Don't I know it," Gilbert agreed with a grin, grabbing his bag._

_Miss Rose made an impatient noise. "I don't think you do. And I hope you don't have to find out the hard way."_

Gilbert blinked back to reality. The train was nearing Bright River. Anne sat up with an embarrassed cough, seeming to only just now realize the position in which she'd spent most of the ride. "Thank you. For agreeing to allow me to come along. Marilla would never have let me otherwise."

Gilbert nodded. "I wish your search had turned up more, but until it does, I'm happy to assuage Marilla's fears. You're not ending up face down in a ditch on my watch. Hey!" Anne had elbowed him in the side. "Alright, maybe I deserved that," he relented when Anne gave him a look. "Really, though, Anne. Anytime."

Anne nodded. "I know," she said softly. "Thank you, Gilbert. I appreciate it." She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes quickly. "I think… I think I'll be okay." 

She didn't need a hand down from the train, strictly speaking, but when Gilbert offered his, she took it with a grateful smile, the mildest shock tinging it when Gilbert squeezed her hand gently before letting go. As they waited for Matthew to come with the cart, Gilbert drummed up his courage. "You mentioned visiting Cole and Miss Barry for tea, and now Miss Rose. I don't suppose... you'd allow me to treat you myself sometime?" 

Anne was now completely shocked. "I—you mean— _tea_? I mean, um, yes, I'd… like that very much." 

Gilbert took a breath to say more, but Matthew chose that moment to appear. Blushing just a bit but clearly pleased, Anne hurried off to greet him. Neither bothering nor wanting to hide his own satisfied grin, Gilbert followed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it was not abundantly clear, I will give these two every chance possible and more to touch hands. It's just a thing.
> 
> So, this was just going to be the train ride to Charlottetown. And then it was going to end with Gilbert offering Anne his shoulder and Anne accepting. And then I decided he was going to cheer her up. And then ask her out for tea. And now, we're here. (And dealt with the Winnie problem by making her kind of a cool older sister figure, especially since Gilbert doesn't get his feelings hurt by Anne and decide to rectify that by asking Winnie out.)
> 
> Let me know what you think, as ever!


	6. 3x09: In Which the First Note is Not Destroyed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also in which Gilbert doesn't go and tell Mr. Barry he's planning on proposing, because that scene was clearly just thrown in there for the sole purpose of rubbing it in that Diana couldn't stop him. He could have just as easily done that after a hypothetical proposal.
> 
> Bitter? _Moi?_
> 
> Yep!

The girl's note for Gilbert was not going to stay on that table, Hazel had decided, not with this cross breeze in the kitchen. She'd taken it and placed it in his room on his pillow.

And a good thing, too. Gilbert was doing his utmost to keep out of Hazel and Bash's argument, and so had crept up to his room and eaten there. Afterward, he sighed and stretched his arms, first up, then out as far as they would go. He stopped mid-stretch when the paper on his pillow caught his eye. Bash wasn't one to leave a note, and Gilbert doubted that Hazel felt she could yet. So, who was the writer?

He immediately smiled when he opened it, knowing Anne's familiar script the instant—

Gilbert very nearly dropped the paper. He scanned it several times from top to bottom, wondering if the day's journeys and memories were causing him to hallucinate.

_I'm sorry I was confused before. I'm not anymore._

_I love you._

_Anne_

_P.S. May I please have my pen back?_

Gilbert sat heavily on his bed, breathing in slowly and deeply. This was real. This was very, very real.

And he was in very deep trouble.

* * *

Marilla certainly wasn't expecting company at this hour, but she'd been too consumed with worry for Matthew and Anne to even begin to prepare for sleep.

"Gilbert? Is something wrong? Is Delphine ill? Or Sebastian? Hazel?"

Gilbert shook his head. "No, nothing like that, I just… look, I'm sorry it's late, but may I speak with Anne?"

Marilla shook her head. "She and Matthew… they'll be away for another day and a half."

A small trickle of relief wound its way in among all the other not-so-happy things Gilbert was feeling. "I—Anne left me a note."

"I know," Marilla said quickly, her expression not quite readable. She gestured for Gilbert to sit, and he did.

Gilbert was quiet for a moment. "You know?" he repeated finally. Marilla nodded, and Gilbert sighed. "Marilla, I've made a mess of things. Everything just… happened so quickly. I was confused, and scared, and I realized that… that I'd never actually said anything, and then when I tried…" he bowed his head and closed his eyes tightly. "I put that decision on Anne. Instead of telling her what… what I've wanted to tell her for so long, I went with the easier option. I thought it was better to let her hurt me because I didn't believe that she would… love me."

Marilla nodded. "It has… certainly been something watching you two dance around each other these last few years. I thought that, eventually, Anne would come to realize, and so would you."

"...Just perhaps not under quite these circumstances?" Gilbert finished.

Marilla almost smiled and replied kindly, "While this isn't an easy thing for you to deal with, I'm sure, the good news is that nothing is set in stone. That said, Anne is my daughter, and I will protect her at all costs. I know that she will not tolerate being a part of any scandal, and quite frankly, Matthew and I won't tolerate it, either. So, if you intend to say something to her, I would ask that you address the situation with Winifred first."

Gilbert nodded. "That's completely fair. More than, really. Thank you, Marilla."

"Thank you for understanding. I just hope… I hope that…" Marilla sighed.

"I know." Gilbert stood. "Thank you for… for your honesty. For everything. I'll… come back the day after tomorrow, I suppose."

"Do you want me to let Anne know… that you've been here? That you'll be back?" Marilla offered.

Gilbert thought for a moment. "Please tell her… what you feel is appropriate. But she should hear… the important part of it from me. That I love her, I mean." Gilbert thought he'd falter on the word, but it came out matter-of-fact, like there was no other possibility. He didn't see Marilla's smile, but a faint one of his own ghosted across his lips at having actually said it to someone who hadn't more or less pried it out of him (no matter how right Bash had been about it).

"I suppose I shouldn't exactly wish you luck," Marilla muttered, "but I do hope that… it all works out in the end."

Gilbert nodded. "Well, good night."

He was vaguely surprised when Marilla stood and placed her hands on his shoulders. "I know you certainly weren't feeling it when you walked in the door, but you are a wonderful young man."

"Thank you, Marilla." Gilbert didn't quite smile. "Hearing that from you… that means a lot." He covered one of her hands with one of his for a moment, then turned to leave.

* * *

Anne flopped back on her bed, arms wrapped around her stomach. She felt sick. Even with the plan of action she and Matthew had concocted, Ka'kwet was still trapped in that horrible prison until someone could be convinced to free her.

She had thought about her note to Gilbert off and on through the trip, but she hadn't really had the luxury of focusing on it. Neither Marilla nor Matthew had mentioned it over supper, but Marilla looked as though she had something to say, and not to do with their expedition.

Now, though… now, she had time.

Anne rolled onto her side, curling her legs up just a little, staring at the candle she'd lit as the sun had set.

What if he'd tried to call on her while she was gone?

If he had, why not leave a note?

Her pen hadn't shown up, though—maybe he hadn't been over after all. Surely Marilla would have said something?

Or maybe he had, and Marilla wasn't saying anything because he had and Gilbert had said he didn't love Anne.

Still, though: _why wouldn't he leave the pen?_

With all her thoughts buzzing around in her head, Anne nearly missed the clattering of something on her floor. She sat up and looked around. There was a small rock on her floor. She stared at it for a long minute before a second one sailed through her window to join it.

Anne jolted upright and walked over to her window.

" _Gilbert?!_ " she squeaked, her hand flying up to her mouth. "What are you doing? What—" she bent to grab the pebbles and held them out the window "—is this?!"

"I want to talk to you." Anne just barely heard the words; Gilbert was making the same effort Anne was to be quiet.

"And you didn't think knocking was appropriate?" Anne couldn't help the question, but she already knew the answer. If Gilbert Blythe, of all people, was sneaking around, there was a reason. "Stay there. I'll be down in a moment."

She padded down the stairs. Matthew was already asleep, and Marilla had been dozing—she had not slept well at all while the other two had been gone. Thankfully, neither made noise as Anne pulled on her boots and, without bothering to tie them, slid outside and around the side of the house. Gilbert was still under her window.

Anne stood a few feet away, her arms loosely crossed once again. She didn't know what to say.

"I got your note," Gilbert started.

"And?" Anne could barely breathe.

"I came over as soon as I found it, but you were gone with Matthew. I spoke with Marilla, and… got some clarity on a few things. So I went to Charlottetown yesterday to break it off with Winifred. I was just… so shocked when her father made proposing sound like the expectation. I'm not sure how it got that far, but I know I shouldn't have encouraged it. And I know that—that what I said at the ruins was the worst possible way to go about things. I shouldn't have put you in that position." He sighed. "And since I'm being completely honest with you now, there is a part of me that's terrified that, no matter what your note said, what I've done is unforgivable. But you deserve to know that I love you."

Silence hung between them for far too long, then Anne stepped up to Gilbert. "We've been working on a school newspaper for _months_. You'd think you'd know how to lead with a headline," she chided, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

Gilbert let out a short laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. "It was important to me that you knew the rest of it."

"Clearly. You showed up and threw rocks in my window after dark," Anne teased.

"I mean it, Anne." Gilbert was once again quite serious. "All of it." He took one of her hands and held it over his heart, eyes never leaving Anne's. "The only thing I don't regret in all of this is the way I feel about you."

Anne swallowed. "Having lived through enough heartache of my own," she began quietly, turning the hand over Gilbert's heart to press her palm to his and lace their fingers together. "I think it might be time to start adding to the list of things you _don't_ regret if there's going to be any hope."

Gilbert raised his free hand to Anne's cheek, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone once. Anne's breath hitched, but the half-step she took was toward him, and her eyes were hopeful. Gilbert leaned in before he could lose his nerve and kissed Anne.

Anne let out a small gasp, but pressed back, enjoying the new sensation. The hand not holding Gilbert's came up to rest on his arm, and she felt him draw closer, as well, dropping the hand he held between them and instead wrapping his arm around Anne's waist. Anne made a small noise in the back of her throat and tilted her head just a little, satisfied and a little thrilled with the way it all felt.

They weren't sure how much longer it was before they parted, but both Anne and Gilbert were breathing just a little more heavily when they did.

"I'd say that was a good start," Anne breathed.

Gilbert smiled, looking much more at ease, and admitted, "That's a relief."

Anne's soft laugh turned into a yawn. "Goodness! I didn't realize I was so tired. I guess… relief does that."

"Should I apologize for keeping you up?" Gilbert wanted to know.

Anne shook her head, the action serving to nuzzle further into Gilbert's hand. "No, but I should get back inside. Marilla usually comes in to check on me before she goes to sleep for the night."

"Ah. Well, I guess this is good night, then." Gilbert placed a soft kiss on Anne's forehead. "Thank you, Anne, for hearing me out. You are so brave, and so beautiful, and so very loved."

Anne, at a loss for words, threw her arms around Gilbert's neck and gave him a long, thorough kiss. The look Gilbert gave her when she drew back was causing all manner of pleasant feelings. "G'night, Gil," She murmured sleepily, then turned to walk back into the house, making it only a few steps before she turned back around. "Oh… Gilbert?"

"Hmm?" He was just getting ready to turn to leave, having been stopped by the casual nickname that had left him with a serene smile.

"What… happened to my pen?" Anne asked cautiously.

Gilbert patted his pockets curiously, then sighed. "I was so focused on... everything else I needed to apologize for that I forgot. It's on my desk. I can… bring it to you tomorrow?" he offered apologetically.

Anne smiled just a little mischievously. "Or perhaps I'll pay _you_ a call," she suggested.

Gilbert nodded, his own grin back in place. "I'm very much in favor of this idea. Good night, Anne."

It would be a little too long before either of them would actually fall asleep that night, but when they did, it would be with smiles on their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gilbert didn't forget Anne's pen. I mean, he did, but only because I did. He didn't actually have it and say he didn't for the sake of kissing her again. It wasn't intentional, is what I mean. I just straight-up forgot to deal with it until the end. I'd say it worked out, though, eh?
> 
> As always, I want to hear what's on your mind! Thoughts, feelings, your favorite color, what you intend to eat for your next meal… I'm here for it all!


	7. 3x03: In Which Comfort Is Still Given and Taken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this episode... I can't watch this episode all at once. It is incredibly raw for me for several reasons. And so, this one's going to be the most massive change of all.
> 
> On with the story!

Anne was clearing up from breakfast as Matthew read the paper and Marilla gave Dellie a bottle. She'd been trying to keep busy, but in the back of her mind, she knew that any moment, they could have news.

As she brought the bread back into the kitchen, she saw Gilbert step up into the porch, his face unreadable. Anne's own expression dropped, and she opened the door. "Is everything... Is Mary...?" she couldn't bring herself to complete the question.

"She's going to be... delicate for a while." Gilbert sighed. "But she should recover."

"Oh!" Anne brought her hands to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. "That's wonderful..." she whispered.

Gilbert nodded, looking only mildly less pensive.

"She'll be alright?" Marilla verified.

Gilbert nodded.

"Thank the Lord," Marilla murmured, cuddling Dellie just a bit closer. "Would it be alright if we came to visit?"

Gilbert nodded again. "I'll help you get everything together."

* * *

Anne had worried as they'd bundled up and gotten Dellie's things into the cart. Mary was going to be well, but was Gilbert? Had he lied about Mary's prognosis? No—he'd never!

"I'm going to walk back," Gilbert told Matthew as they finished loading the last of Dellie's things. "I need to clear my head."

Anne didn't know what it was urging her to join him, but she had to listen. "May I join you?"

Gilbert looked surprised, but again nodded his assent without speaking. Anne hopped off the back of the cart to join him as Matthew drove the cart out of the gate.

They walked a while in silence until Anne finally broke it. "I'm glad Mary's going to be alright. I was... We were all really worried. I can't begin to imagine how you and Bash felt."

"Terrified. I was terrified." There was a hard edge to Gilbert's voice that stopped Anne. Gilbert, too, halted, and turned to face Anne. "Doctor Ward took so long examining her, and I know he has to be thorough, but that he couldn't just—just take a look at her and say she'd be fine; that her recovery was couched in caution and warning... I had to get out of there. I didn't want to drag the mood down, because I realized that this is what it means to be a doctor. There will be things like this, but there will also be things I can't fix. Things like... like the illness that took my dad. And I'll have to tell people that." He took a deep breath. "I feel so stupid for not seeing that before. I mean, I've _lived_ it. I spent so much of my time caring for my dad, but... we just avoided it. Because we knew. And there was nothing I—nothing _anyone_ could do to fix it. Doctor Ward wrote everyone he could think of, and it was all..." he trailed off, shaking his head and sniffling.

"Gilbert..." Anne put a hand on his shoulder. "This is what being a doctor means sometimes, but... but someone like you—someone who is capable of great compassion, and someone who will try everything to make it better... Someone who won't turn a person away just based on how they look or where they come from... You are _exactly_ the sort of person who _should_ be a doctor."

Gilbert was staring at her, face streaked with the tracks of the tears he hadn't been able to keep in. He didn't know what else to do; he wrapped his arms around Anne and pulled her into a hug. Anne let out a small gasp of surprise, but brought her arms up as best she could to return the embrace.

They stayed that way for several long moments. Anne could feel him hanging on for dear life, and while it was a little hard to breathe at the moment, she knew that this was something he needed, and if she was honest with herself, it was also giving her comfort she'd needed but hadn't had in the past. When Gilbert's grip finally loosened, his hands caught hers for just a brief moment on the way back down to his sides as Anne let go of him.

"Your ability to keep hoping is amazing," Gilbert said after a moment.

With a sad, lopsided smile, Anne replied, "Hope was all I had for a long while. It's not easy when things don't work out, but it's better than living in despair all the time." She sighed. "Having someone around who can remind you of that certainly helps, though. And you're going to continue to have Mary to do that for a long while." Anne's smile was becoming happier.

"And you?" Gilbert added, asking rather than assuming.

Anne nodded without hesitation. "And me." She smirked, but there was a softness to it. "I'm not about to let you give up on your dreams. Who would I compete with then?"

_I never stood a chance against you,_ Gilbert wanted to say, but instead, with as close to a laugh as he could get, he said, "Alright, alright, I won't give up. Let's keep walking."

They were almost to his house before Gilbert spoke again. "Anne, thank you. I... really, I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I'm sure that's not true," Anne laughed nervously. "But you're welcome. I'm glad I could help."

They walked up onto the porch and into the house; a house that would remain full of light and laughter and love for years to come, with two families who would always have each other no matter how difficult things got. They were coming home; they just didn't quite know the truth of it yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, you did just read that fluffy mess. And you liked it. Also, touching hands again. I feel like this is getting into drinking game territory. (This is not an endorsement; please don't.)
> 
> What was Mary suffering from? Something nonfatal. Was it the cut? Was it just heartbreak over Elijah? Was it that she's actually pregnant again and having a rough time? I couldn't decide, so I was as vague as possible. Make of that what you will.
> 
> I will say that this little universe might compel me to return to it. After all, I think we all know Mary would whack Gilbert with a spoon for making the choices he did regarding his love life if she knew the whole story, and that idea is highly tempting to explore...
> 
> Speak your mind in the comments!


	8. 3x10: In Which the Second Letter is Not Destroyed (But the First One Still Was)

"Oh really, Gilbert? You couldn't even face me?! _World class!_ " Anne cried, getting ready to rend the letter into oblivion.

The memory of another letter flickered into the front of her memory.

And then a realization: Gilbert probably wasn't being cruel. If he wasn't talking to Anne, perhaps it was because he wanted her to be able to react as she would without fear of embarrassing herself. God knew she'd made an absolute fool of herself in front of him far too often recently.

And perhaps it wasn't proper for them to be alone. If he truly was engaged to Winifred, then of course being alone with another young lady who confessed to loving him would be inappropriate...

Anne sank down onto her bed and began to sob. The thought of the Roses making Gilbert's dreams come true in ways Anne couldn't possibly begin to offer had her stomach in knots, and worse was that she'd bared her soul to him knowing this was an option, and now, despite all her hope, it was a reality. She should face up to it.

Anne unfolded the note and started reading.

* * *

" _Gilbert Blythe!_ " Anne hollered as she made her way into the orchard. "You will explain yourself this instant!"

Bash, Hazel (carrying Delphine), and Elijah all made themselves scarce. Gilbert, on the other hand, seemed paralyzed with confusion, worry, and something else Anne wouldn't dare name.

Gilbert took Anne in. She was furious, clutching his note in a clenched fist, her braids disarrayed, and her eyes red-rimmed from... crying? He genuinely didn't know what to make of the image, but he realized that he really should have known better than to tell her not to be alarmed. Anne's charm was in no small part due to her natural proclivity toward defying rules and expectations. Before he could ask precisely what he should be explaining, however, Anne began to rant.

"How dare you! First, you corner me when I'm inebriated to tell me all about Winifred's father's grand plan to send you to the Sorbonne if you'll _somehow_ find it within you to take on the monumental burden of marrying a beautiful, genteel, elegant heiress. _Then_ , you imply that _I_ am somehow preventing you from accepting. And _now_... now you've written me a note saying that... that you couldn't go through with it... that y-you'll—" Anne's voice shook with emotion "—that you'll never be engaged to anyone unless it's me. That you love me." Anne took a shaky breath and ignored the tears once again streaming down her face, getting a second wind of rage. "But at the same time, you're saying that we'll never see each other again, like it's for the best. How _dare_ you imply that I don't feel for you the way you do for me?! I thought my note for you was at least clear on that much. You certainly understood the part about returning my pen, anyway... What; did you think that 'I love you' somehow meant 'Go be with Winifred Rose', hmm?"

"Anne..." Gilbert dropped his sun hat, having removed it during Anne's tirade, and stepped forward to put a hand out to Anne's elbow. Anne flinched away. Gilbert sighed. "Anne, I never got a note from you." He waited for Anne to react and was rewarded when her hands fell limply to her sides and the fight left her eyes completely, replaced by wary hope. "I believe you left one, but I promise you, I never got it," he repeated. "So please, tell me what it said? When did you leave it?"

"I left it the day before you went to... the day before you actually didn't propose, I guess," Anne replied dazedly. "You weren't here—it was just Hazel and Dellie—and so I wrote a note for you, and I left it under the water pitcher."

This time, she didn't move away when Gilbert very gently cupped her elbow. "And what precisely were the contents of this note?" he asked, voice just barely above a whisper.

Anne took a deep breath and closed her eyes, though the words were permanently seared into the forefront of her consciousness. With a soft confidence, she recited, " _I'm sorry I was confused before. I'm not anymore._ " She opened her eyes. " _I love you._ " Biting her lip, Anne added, "and I added a postscript requesting the return of my pen."

The reason behind Anne's anguish donned on Gilbert. "So when I left the pen, you thought I'd misinterpreted your note. Anne..." He bowed his head, his forehead coming to rest lightly against Anne's as he raised his free hand to her cheek. "Well, I can certainly understand how you would come to be under that impression. It's been… confusing lately, to say the least."

Anne nodded miserably, her hand coming up to cover his. "I... I'm sorry for yelling at you."

Gilbert almost smiled. "Apology accepted. And I know I owe you more than a few. I think it's time we actually talked."

Anne sighed, a lopsided smile forming shakily on her lips. "I'd say it's well past, but better late than never."

* * *

Anne sat back against Gilbert's chest, his legs out on either side of her, and his arms wrapped around her stomach. Anne's loosely crossed arms rested atop his. She'd pulled her hair from its half-destroyed braids on their walk to find a tree that would shield them from prying eyes, pulling her hand from Gilbert's only when necessary, and allowing him to take the liberty of running his own fingers through her hair as she tried to untangle it.

"I wasn't wrong about that night on Miss Stacy's porch, was I?" Anne asked quietly. "One minute, we were joking around, and then something changed. I thought you were looking at me like you wanted to... to lean in. Like you wanted to kiss me," she said quickly.

"You weren't wrong," Gilbert confirmed. "But it's increasingly clear to me that I was wrong about what you meant at the ruins. I thought you were shocked at what I was saying because you didn't think of me romantically. I was a fool."

Anne let out a short, bittersweet laugh. "Oh, you were, but not half as much as I have been. I ran away after that wonderful dance practice because I was afraid of my own feelings, but instead of confronting them at the fair, I just moped after seeing you and Winifred."

It was Gilbert's turn to let out a self-deprecating huff of laughter. "You say that like I didn't run away after dance practice myself. And the fair? I was trying to tell myself that Winifred was just a friend or maybe only just something more; that meeting her parents wasn't nearly the step it was. Bash called me out on it. Several times, in fact." Gilbert laced his fingers with Anne's running his thumbs along hers. He smiled as she nestled just a little further back into him. "You would not believe the dance he did when he thought I'd still made the choice to propose to you."

"What?!" Anne craned her head to meet Gilbert's eyes, her own impossibly wide, and her eyebrows nearly vanishing up into her hair. "He thought... But how? I mean, I suppose it makes sense... someday, maybe, anyway, but... I'm not..." Anne floundered helplessly.

"Ready? Believe me, after this whole fiasco, I don't intend to propose until I've ascertained we're both good and ready," Gilbert assured her.

"Oh." Anne let out a shaky laugh. "Good." She turned to face forward and leaned her head back against Gilbert's shoulder. "So, Bash... knows how you feel?"

Gilbert laughed. "Oh, he knows. Has known since I got your letter on the ship, if you ask him. Don't ever tell him he's right unless you are prepared for the most embarrassing display."

It was Anne's turn to laugh. "I'll keep that in mind." She sighed contentedly. "You have no idea how absolutely elated I was to get your return letter," she admitted, knowing her cheeks were going pink. "I kept on insisting to Marilla that none of it was romantical. Unprompted. I'm sure she was convinced of the opposite very quickly."

Gilbert nodded. "To hear Bash tell it, it couldn't be less of a secret if Rachel Lynde knew."

Anne winced. "Oh, I dearly hope she doesn't... That notice board business was bad enough."

"Good thing you steered me away from posting, then," Gilbert murmured, causing Anne to whip around for the second time.

"It's not that I doubt your writing skills, because I assure you, nothing could be farther from the truth," she said cautiously. "But something so public?"

Gilbert shrugged. "I wasn't lying when I said I'm not a take-notice kind of guy, but you seemed to be in favor of the idea, so I was considering it up until Ruby came into the discussion."

It was Anne's turn to sigh. "I was trying to be positive about it for Ruby's sake; to try to convince you to post about her." She tilted her head. "Still, coming from you, I suppose it might not have been so terrible. I'm just not sure I would have received it gracefully. I'm not... exactly good at that, you know."

"Oh, I know," Gilbert laughed. "Most of the time, anyway. But there are moments when you are graceful, and those moments... They have their own profound effect, let's put it that way."

Anne blinked. It was one thing to have read the note Gilbert had left. She had no doubt he meant every word, of course, but something about the way he was looking at her right this moment seemed to somehow dwarf the truth of that note. Her heart was racing, and her stomach was doing all manner of acrobatics, and a curious heat was filling her core. It felt like something that she'd lost had come home.

"I... um..." she breathed, feeling like she'd never be able to be graceful in her life again if this was how Gilbert was going to look at her.

For his part, Gilbert put a hand to Anne's cheek, then slowly leaned in, hesitating just before his lips would touch Anne's. Anne's breath hitched for one moment, and then she stretched up, pressing her lips to Gilbert's.

Her unspoken answer to Gilbert's unasked question had him sliding one arm around her waist to keep her close, and the other leaving Anne's cheek to immediately trap itself in her hair.

Anne, twisted around as she was, grabbed Gilbert's vest. Gilbert's arm tightened around her in response, and Anne drew in a sharp breath, and for a moment, both of them hesitated. A series of softer, shorter kisses followed, and as Anne's eyes finally fluttered open, she found herself staring briefly into Gilbert's. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Anne's forehead.

Anne turned to relax back against him when he drew back. "Well," she breathed, lacing her fingers with Gilbert's again, "that answers a few questions I've had. And certainly grants a wish I didn't know I had until rather more recently." She knew Gilbert would be needing an explanation. "When you were on the ship, or probably coming back to Avonlea by the time, I suppose, Josie... enticed us all into a game of spin-the-bottle. Or pressured, maybe? I don't know. In any event, I asked Matthew and Marilla about kissing. You can imagine how well that went over," she drawled as Gilbert shook with quiet laughter. "In any event, some... unkind remarks were made about me, and... and all I wanted was to feel beautiful. Desired. And I'd always had it reinforced that my red hair and freckles were about the farthest thing from desirable that you could get. And I met a German peddler on the way home, and he had some black hair dye. I... dyed my hair, and I realized that I just... wasn't me like that. So I tried to take it out. With laundry blueing. It turned my hair green..." Anne sighed. "Marilla cut it that night. The night before you came back to class. And as I was sobbing about how I'd been so deluded that I thought dyeing my hair would somehow make me something I wasn't, Marilla said—I will never forget it—'When someone loves you, Anne, _then_ you'll be kissed.' I begged her to repeat it."

While Gilbert was still shaking just a bit with mirth, his voice was undeniably warm when he said, "Well, there was a bit of time between me realizing the first and getting to the second, but I will happily make up for lost time. If that's what you want." He leaned his head forward to rest his cheek against Anne's.

"If you think that's not what I want after that, I may have to rethink my feelings for you," Anne joked.

"The last time I assumed your thoughts and feelings... it didn't end well," Gilbert reminded her. "I was so incredibly stupid; I should have just said something. I figure it's time to be clear about all of it. I know I wrote it earlier, and I know you know I meant every word, but I love you, Anne."

Anne rose to her knees and turned to face Gilbert. "When I said it earlier, I was repeating my note. I didn't mean it any less then, but if you're saying it, then I should, too... I love you." Anne bit her lip against a smile. It didn't work. She laughed and leaned in to kiss Gilbert again, her hands cupping his face. After a long moment, she drew back and rested her forehead against his, letting out a blissfully contented sigh.

Something had slid perfectly into place in their hearts, there to stay no matter what, and they were going to spend every moment they could treasuring it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the drill, folks! I encourage you to give me your thoughts! Two more of the original ten to go after this!


	9. 3x07: In Which the Porch Scene Ends Rather Differently

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I _wanted_ to do an alt where Gilbert went to wipe the paint off Anne's face, then realized and handed her a handkerchief instead. I even started writing it! I got two paragraphs in.
> 
> And then Chreechree had to go and get in my head with an earlier comment or two. And the damn paint splotch alt wasn't going anywhere.
> 
> So, yeah, you know where this is going.
> 
> *walks off humming "You're Welcome" from Moana*

"Winifred… is a lucky gal." Anne shifted to stand. "I should get back inside."

"She is, but not for the reason you think she is," Gilbert said quietly.

Anne stopped, her hand hovering over the door handle. She closed her eyes tightly for a moment.

Gilbert dared to continue. "I got a letter from her yesterday. She said… that she had a lot of fun at the fair. But she realized after… after everything… that her heart lies elsewhere. And that she knew mine did— _does_ , too." 

Anne opened her eyes, drew her hand back, and went back to take the seat she'd been occupying.

Once she was settled, Gilbert continued, "She also said that she knows… that she could see how you were looking at me. And she had some choice words about my ignorance." He smiled wryly. "Not quite as bad as a slate to the face, but then, things like that tend to hurt more when they come from someone you have feelings for." He had been watching Anne out of the corner of his eye as he'd spoken, but finally felt brave enough to turn and face her.

It was taking every ounce of effort Anne could put forth not to have her mouth fall open. "You really…?" she finally managed.

Gilbert nodded, his fingers knit together as tightly as he could hold them, waiting more tensely than he'd ever imagined for Anne to confirm Winifred's observation.

"I…" Anne swallowed several times. "I have… feelings for you, too," she admitted, her voice a near-whisper. "It's just—the last couple years have been… complicated." She leaned against the post holding up the porch railing.

Gilbert scooted closer and placed one hand over Anne's own, tightly-clenched out in front of her. The tension went out of Anne's shoulders at his touch, and she allowed him to interlace his fingers with hers. After a moment, she sighed and moved away from the post, instead resting her head on Gilbert's shoulder.

"…Is there anything I can do?" Gilbert asked after a moment.

Anne sighed and shook her head. "No. Honestly, I just want to enjoy this."

Gilbert couldn't see the smile, but he could hear it in her voice, and the corners of his mouth lifted in response. "I wouldn't dream of stopping you. Though, if I may…" he replaced the hand holding Anne's with his other, and looped his free arm around her shoulders.

Anne let out a soft chuckle, very much enjoying the way Gilbert's thumb ran up and down her shoulder. "You know that if anyone else walks out that door, there's going to be a commotion, right?" she asked, neither sounding nor feeling as worried as she'd thought.

"I am far too happy to care right now," Gilbert told her.

Anne raised her head from his shoulder and turned to look him in the eye. "Really?"

In response, Gilbert leaned in to give Anne a soft kiss. As quickly as it started, it was done, but when he pulled back, his eyes were dancing. "Really," he replied.

Anne bit her lip, marveling at what had just happened. She knew it wasn't hiding her silly grin, but she was finding what Gilbert said about not caring to be rapidly becoming more true for her with each second. She rested her head back on Gilbert's shoulder, raising one of her hands to pull his more tightly around her shoulders. Her smile only grew broader when Gilbert turned and pressed a kiss into her hair, lingering and just breathing her in.

Despite their earlier words, they were startled apart when Moody could be heard asking loudly, "Where's Anne? Someone get her back in here for a final toast!"

Gilbert sprang to his feet and held out a hand to pull Anne to her feet. He gestured for Anne to enter first, lingering just a few seconds as he resisted the urge to take her hand and pull her back outside. He didn't notice the slightly annoyed but vaguely resigned look Charlie was giving him, focusing instead on the beaming Anne, whose eyes always found him no matter who pulled her aside to congratulate her or bid her good night. He was impressed when Anne managed to convince Matthew and Marilla to let her walk home with Gilbert, insisting that she wanted to savor the success of the day just a little bit longer. He wasn't entirely sure Marilla was convinced that was the only reason, as she'd seen them come back in, but that she allowed Anne her request was reassuring.

They spent most of the walk back simply holding hands and exchanging fond glances. A few times, they poked fun at the faces of the council members, or laughed over something someone had said at the gathering, but for the most part, their journey had been in contented silence.

As they reached one of the trees lining the walk shortly before they reached the porch, Anne murmured, "It's been… quite an evening." When Gilbert looked at her, she admitted a little more shyly, "I'm not sure I'm ready for it to end."

"Well, then." Gilbert tugged her hand, drawing her over to one of the trees to hide them from view of the house. He leaned back against it, moving his hands to sit on Anne's waist.

"I am beginning to think you're only proper until nobody's around to see," Anne teased.

Gilbert gave her a look. "I recall you taking no prompting whatsoever to wheedle the Cuthberts into allowing you to walk with me," he shot back playfully. "I seem to also recall you saying you weren't yet ready to go inside. And anyway—" He pulled her in for a gentle kiss. "—as has been thoroughly proven today, sometimes, breaking the rules is worth it."

Anne sighed. "As I don't currently have a slate handy…" She grabbed Gilbert's vest and kissed him just a little harder than he had her. "That," she whispered as she drew back, "is for using my own protest against me."

"Against you? Never." Gilbert brought a hand up to Anne's cheek. "For you, always."

Anne stared at him for a moment, trying to think of a suitable rejoinder. Upon coming up empty, she leaned in and kissed him again again, sighing when Gilbert's arm tightened around her waist, pulling her as close as he could. Her sigh turned into a quiet noise of surprised enjoyment as Gilbert's hand moved from her cheek to her hair. Her lips parted against his and she slid a hand up into his hair, pleased when his own muffled groan told her she wasn't the only one so affected by the embrace.

Anne wasn't sure how much longer it was before they pulled apart, but she did know she was breathing rather more heavily than a walk up the stairs to her room would warrant even at her most exhausted. Still, she murmured, "I should really get inside. It's one thing when everyone's distracted at a victory party. It's quite another when Marilla doesn't find me in my bed and takes a broom to the both of us when she finds out where I actually am."

Gilbert sighed, but pushed himself off the tree, sliding the hand at Anne's waist down to take hers as it fell to her side. "I suppose there are some rules it's still better not to break. But Anne? I'd like… to do this again. Not just this, although it's tempting—" He and Anne both laughed at how poorly he was managing. "—but really, I want to… to talk with you. About everything."

Anne nodded. "I can't say that's a bad idea. But for now…" she pressed a kiss to Gilbert's cheek. "About all I'm good for saying is good night."

Gilbert smiled and kissed Anne one last time, sweet and tender and full of promise. "Good night, Anne."

"Good night, Gilbert." Anne walked up to the house, turning to offer Gilbert a tired but very happy wave before she let herself in.

With a very satisfied grin, Gilbert set off for home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, Chreechree! You happy now? :P
> 
> Who's this lucky someone Winifred has? I'm of the opinion that lesbian!Winnie makes complete and total sense, quite honestly, so some lucky lady.
> 
> Other fun notes... let's see… I listened to "Here In Your Arms" by Hellogoodbye on repeat while writing this because it was just the mood I needed.
> 
> Comments are, as always, welcomed and encouraged!


	10. 3x05: In Which These Two Knuckleheads Don't Fight It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't figure out which of these last two to post first, so I chose the obvious solution: post both! This does mean the original ten are wrapped up for now, but I have outlines and ideas to come back to this later.

Anne had slowed down. Maybe she shouldn't have walked away without saying anything. Maybe she should have—

"Oh!..." Anne turned and jogged back toward the schoolhouse, passing Charlie along the way.

"Anne! Wait..."

"Sorry Charlie; I forgot something!" Anne called as she veered left.

"The schoolhouse is the other way!" Charlie yelled after her.

 _I never said I forgot it_ _ **there**_ _,_ Anne thought.

She looked around as she slowed down to a brisk walk. Where was he?

Her foot snagged in a root and Anne yelped as she fell to the ground.

* * *

Gilbert's walk had slowed to a crawl, and then to a stop. _What am I even doing? The answers I want aren't going to be at home..._ He turned around and started back down the path toward the school, the slight ache in his chest he hadn't noticed until now subsiding with every step. After a minute, it almost felt like he had wings.

And then, he heard Anne cry out.

* * *

"Anne!" Gilbert darted over.

"Ugh..." Anne put her books in her basket and knelt up, brushing off her apron and the hem of her dress. Mercifully, there was only a small splotch that didn't immediately come off, and it was on her apron. She unwittingly took the hand Gilbert held out, realizing what was going on and with whom only after she was on her feet. She took in a sharp breath and snatched her hand back, her cheeks warming. "Th-thanks," she stammered, wiping her palms on her apron and smoothing it out.

"Are you alright?" Gilbert asked.

Anne nodded and swallowed. "Yes! I just... was careless. I tripped over a root." She took a few steps. "See? I'm just fine."

Gilbert nodded and started walking with her. "I thought you were taking the other route?"

"I... This route's quicker," Anne lied before sighing. "And I felt bad for running away. I don't know what came over me." She chuckled nervously.

"Yeah, that was... Well, I don't really know, either. I was headed back to find you when you fell," Gilbert admitted.

Anne made a thoughtful noise, but didn't know what to say to that otherwise. Instead, she gazed around at their surroundings, noticing that Gilbert was doing the same, and noticing that he was doing about as good a job of not looking at her as she was of keeping her gaze away from him.

"...Sorry for pulling you out of formation," Gilbert said after several minutes' quiet.

"You didn't seem sorry at the time," Anne pointed out with a teasing smile.

Gilbert laughed ruefully. "You've caught me; I'm only apologizing because it's the polite thing to do."

Anne let out her own laugh. "Heaven forbid you be anything other than unfalteringly polite!"

"You're right; I'll ask before I pull you out of formation next time," Gilbert joked.

"Next time?" Anne tried to keep the breathlessness from her voice, but utterly failed to with her next words. "So you plan to do that again?"

Gilbert was quiet for a moment. "If you'd like," he said finally.

Anne stopped. " _Why?_ " She couldn't help the question. "I mean, I... I'd like that, but you—why would you..."

"I enjoy dancing with you," Gilbert answered honestly.

"You do..." Anne's voice was faint. "Well, perhaps I... should save you the trouble and start in your line?" She offered a shy smile.

Gilbert returned the smile, and Anne quickly learned why there was a touch of mischief in it when he replied, "But then I wouldn't get to do _this_ again," and grabbed Anne's free hand to spin her around. Anne let out a laugh that rapidly went from surprised to delighted. Through her laughter, she managed to ask, "You do know that turning still spins me around and doesn't break the line if I start in yours, right?" Her laugh trailed off as she realized she'd left her hand in Gilbert's and he had no intention of letting it go. A second small shock hit as she realized she didn't want to let go, either.

"It's a little more fun this way," Gilbert replied, looking very warmly at Anne.

Anne swallowed. "I... like it, too," she admitted. She bit her lip, trying to figure out how to say what she was feeling. "I just didn't truly realize how much until today. How much I like _you_."

In the long moment between the words leaving her mouth and Gilbert finding the words to respond, Anne's heart very nearly beat out of her chest. Just when she thought she might actually faint, he finally spoke. "I'd say we're a little past 'like'."

Anne let out a breathless laugh. "I suppose that's fair to say. I'm just... I haven't felt this way about anyone else before, and—and I don't know—"

"I'm not asking you to marry me right this moment, Anne," Gilbert assured her, running his thumb across the back of her hand. "I am asking you if you want to walk home together after study group, or dance with me at the county fair, or—" he cut himself off.

"Or...?" Anne stepped closer and set down her basket, then took Gilbert's books and set them on top of hers before grabbing Gilbert's other hand with hers. "What is it?"

Gilbert's eyes searched Anne's face as she gazed back at him, confused and concerned and just a little hopeful. Whatever he found there was enough: he pulled on Anne's hands just enough to get her to take another step forward so they were toe to toe, and Gilbert leaned down and kissed Anne.

Anne took a quick, sharp breath, but when Gilbert made to pull away, she let go of his hands and clasped her hands behind his neck. She smiled against his mouth when she felt his hands on her waist, cautious at first but very quickly pulling her firmly to him. A feeling like warm spring sunshine spread through her, and the rest of reality seemed to fall away for the moment.

As they finally pulled apart, Anne let out a contented sigh. "If someone had told me this morning that was how my afternoon was going to wind up..." she trailed off, still amazed that it had.

"You'd have hit them with a slate?" Gilbert supplied with a wicked grin.

Anne gave him a look. "I would have asked when their imagination had gotten more fanciful than mine."

"So you've never imagined this?" Gilbert gave her another quick kiss.

Anne tried not to laugh. "For that insolence, I'm not going to tell you what I have and haven't imagined."

"Well then, I suppose I'll just have to keep guessing," Gilbert told her, not seeming at all upset with the idea.

Anne let out a startled laugh. "Gilbert Blythe, you are unbelievable!" She let go of one of his hands and stooped to grab her basket. Gilbert reached across and grabbed his books, and the two continued on their way home.

As they walked closer to Green Gables, Anne seemed to grow a little troubled. Her grip on Gilbert's hand loosened for a moment, then tightened.

"Is everything alright?" Gilbert wanted to know.

Anne took a deep breath. "I don't mind if Matthew or Marilla or Bash—even Jerry—I don't mind if they know. And I suppose they'd keep our confidence if we asked, but... I've caused gossip before. I've been at the center of it, too. I don't..." she trailed off, worry and frustration rapidly casting a shadow on what had been a wonderful afternoon.

"Anne, take a deep breath." Gilbert turned to face her. "And another. There. I'll admit, this isn't something I've had to think about. My feeling on it is this: anyone who feels the need to gossip isn't someone whose opinion I want to put any stake in. But that isn't going to stop you from worrying, is it?" He waited for Anne to nod. "What is it that you're most worried about?"

"That I'm..." Anne's voice quavered. "That I'm not good enough."

Gilbert looked like he'd just been hit. "Anne, I have been gone for you since the day we met. No matter how upset you got with me or how annoyed I've been with you, my feelings have only grown. There is no possible scenario where that means you are not good enough." This time, it was he who set their things on the ground and took Anne's other hand in his. "I know I can't just snap my fingers and make that fear disappear forever, but if anyone ever tries to say that you're not good enough, I'm on the list of very angry people they will need to answer to. And I always have been."

Anne sensed there was a story, and made a mental note to ask later, when her feelings weren't being quite so overwhelming. She pulled her hands from Gilbert's and threw her arms around him, hoping that the gesture would tell him what her voice couldn't just now. They both let out a sigh at the same time as Gilbert's arms wound around Anne.

"Thank you," Anne said finally, her voice muffled by Gilbert's shoulder.

"I'm completely serious," Gilbert told her as they drew apart. "So much as a hint of anything uncharitable, and whoever it is is going to have the combined wrath of all the people who care for you bearing down on them before they know what hit them. I don't know if you've noticed, but Diana has a pretty terrifyingly murderous glare, and I'm not at all convinced she wouldn't back that up with action…" He couldn't help smiling when Anne laughed, though he'd been telling the truth about Diana. "But if you want to talk with someone who will react positively, I can take you to Bash. He's been waiting for this day since he and I got back to Avonlea, and if you don't believe me, I'm sure he will tell you. Several times."

Anne was still laughing. "I'd like to drop my things off first… and perhaps tell Marilla that we…? I don't like this whole 'courting' ideal; it's about as conducive to actually figuring out if two people should be together as plucking petals off a daisy, but it's at least a concept to work with."

Gilbert nodded. "I doubt we'll even need to say anything to Bash." _More like he'll be_ _the one_ _hinting when the barn will be conveniently empty_ _and I'll pretend I'm only annoyed and not_ _also_ _minorly appreciative_ _, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it._

Anne took another deep breath. "Okay, I'm ready." She grabbed her basket as before, holding it so Gilbert could retrieve his things, but he took the basket instead. "I am perfectly capable of carrying my own basket," she reminded him.

"If courting is the term we're using, then courting is what I am going to do, and a gentleman offers to carry a lady's things," Gilbert told her.

Anne gave him a curious look. "...You're afraid of Marilla," she said after a moment.

Gilbert tried to look scandalized. "I want to make a _good impression_. As a… as a suitor, rather than as a friend. Oh fine; maybe I am just a little worried," he admitted when Anne continued to stare patiently.

"If I'm honest, I am too, but I don't think we have any reason to be. Marilla has always been positively disposed toward you. Unsubtly so at times." Anne's smile was both wry and hopeful. She squeezed Gilbert's hand. "Shall we?"

Gilbert nodded, once more grinning from ear to ear. "We shall."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be clear, Anne's self-esteem issues are not solved, but I imagine that it would help her greatly to just hear that she's got people in her corner, and that it's not conditional on her being perfect, because she isn't. It means that she's worth fighting for even as she continues to grow as a person, and that's the kind of support that really matters.
> 
> Shout-out to Rozmund for the concept of overtly murderously protective Diana! (And Gilbert being aware of this to a degree.) Like, yeah, she yelled at Gilbert with no concern for his feelings or decorum, and she gives Moody the death glare to end all death glares when he says it's good the paper fired Anne, but this is that ratcheted up just a bit, I think.
> 
> And… well, we've reached the end of the original ten! I have ideas and outlines for a few more, but I will be taking a break to work on other stories and also just to deal with cabin fever. Y'all know the "please leave comments" drill by now.
> 
> See you all on the next story!


End file.
